Of Hobbits and Holidays
by Michelle Smith
Summary: (PWP) Fluff piece. Espressio, cappuccino, and very mild slashyness. The only kink in it comes from the hedge-clippers, and maybe Pip's boxers, but that's stretching it.


Of Hobbits and Holidays  
  
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Rating: PG. Would be G, except for Sam's shears.  
  
Disclaimer: The hotel is mine, the characters are not. Obviously.  
  
Dedication: To Lyle. You *did* say fluff...  
  
Warnings: Very mildly slashy, all implied. My grandmother wouldn't blush.  
  
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"Bad day?" Boromir asked curiously, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
"Tha's puttin' it light!" Meriadoc Brandybuck muttered, throwing himself down in the overstuffed chair-and-a-half next to the fireplace. "It's been a bloody *terrible* day! An' fer all I love Frodo, this is th' last time we let'm choose wha' t'do next!" He snorted. "`Enough wi' this Ring-Bearer sod,' he says. `Let's go on a *vacation,*' he says." Merry shook his head disgustedly, taking a pouty sip of his espresso. "Oh, sure, a fine idea, tha' is. Let's all go off an' get trapped in a miser'ble hotel off in th' mountains fer a week. It'll be a *riot.*"  
  
"Come now, it hasn't been as bad as all that," Boromir said, smiling. Annoyed hobbits were cute, he decided. As were happy hobbits, and sleeping hobbits, and...  
  
"Oh, sure!" Pip said, grinning impishly. He poked once at the crackling fire and set the poker down on the pseudo-rock hearth, then came back to the tacky brown-leather sofa and curled up next to Boromir. "Easy fer *you* t'say. Yer no'th' one who's walked in on those two--" he waved a hand at Merry and Sam, "--doin' gods-know-what wi' Sam's hedge-clippers--"  
  
"'S yer own fault fer comin' in wi'out knockin'!" Merry cut in quickly, turning red.  
  
Boromir coughed politely. "I think I'm going to go get some coffee from the café downstairs... Pip, would you like some?"  
  
"N'thanks, I'm havin' room-service bring me somethin'." Pip smiled broadly. "Sides, I don' think I oughta be goin' out lookin' like this." Boromir nodded and made a beeline for the door, stepping carefully over Sam and Frodo playing cards on the big Native American styled rug by the suite door.  
  
"Ye already had two mochas an' half o'Sam's latte when he weren' lookin'," Merry pointed out wryly.  
  
"Oh, `s not li' he was ever goin' t'get around t'drinkin' it," Pip said cheerfully. "He's been t'busy playin' wi' Frodo t'notice much o'anythin'. They been at it since th' thing wi' th' hedge-clippers."  
  
"Ye jus' had t'word it tha' way, didn' ye Pip?" Merry muttered.  
  
"What way?" Pip asked sweetly. Before Merry could reply, there was a rushing sound very like a small building collapsing, a string of dwarvish cursing, and a peal of melodic laughter.  
  
"Blast and damn yer pointy ears!" came a gravelly shout from across the room. The hobbits could hear a few heavy footsteps, and then the slam of a door.  
  
"Gimli, darling, come back!" a frantic, lilting voice called. The bedroom door opened again for a moment, then closed.  
  
"Lost again, sounds like," Merry observed. "An' sounds li' he's not too happy about it."  
  
Pip laughed and shook his head. "That's wha' he gets fer playin' Jenga wi' an elf! Ye'd think he'd've learned better b'now..."  
  
"Oh, fine fer ye t'say, Pip, seein' as yer th' one who lost yer trousers to Legolas th' first game y'played." Merry shot a pointed look at Pip's bare legs.  
  
Pip crossed his arms and batted his eyes prettily. "Yer jus' jealous o'm'boxers."  
  
Merry snorted. "Tha's right, Pip," he said. "I've always been fond o'little red hearts..."  
  
There came a loud knock at the door, and a muffled voice from the hall.  
  
"Room service!" Pip said brightly.  
  
"Or maybe someone with a plow-truck," Frodo added. The four hobbits exchanged glances and, as one, bolted for the door. Frodo got there first and pulled it open.  
  
"Boromir!" Pip said brightly. The three other hobbits let out a collective sigh.  
  
"A little help, Master Took?" Boromir asked. He carefully handed Pip a very large, very expensive-looking mug topped with a small mountain of whipped cream and chocolate curls. "I caught room service on the way back up," Boromir explained.  
  
Pip walked carefully back over to his perch on the couch and sat down, balancing the coffee monstrosity gingerly on one knee. He rubbed his hands together and looked at Boromir with laughing eyes. "I don' suppose they sent me a spoon, too?" he asked.  
  
"What is tha' thing, Pip?" Merry asked, sitting back down in the chair-and-a-half. Boromir handed a delicate spoon to Pip, who laughed in delight.  
  
"This is a double-cream swiss-chocolate cappuccino, extra whipped, extra sprinkles." Pip started in on the whipped cream with the tiny spoon.  
  
Merry chuckled and shook his head. "An' exactly who's payin' fer yer extra sprinkles, Pippin?"  
  
Pip looked up, a dollop of whipped cream on his nose. He smiled angelically at Merry. "Why, Gandalf is." He licked his lips thoughtfully. "O'course, he doesn' know it yet..."  
  
"Peregrin Took!" A ringing voice shot through the room. Pippin leapt to his feet, nearly jumping out of his boxers. Boromir made a flying leap and, through a feat of miraculous acrobatics, managed to catch the double-cream swiss-chocolate cappuccino before it hit the floor. Frodo and Sam looked up from their card game and applauded warmly.  
  
"The world is in a sorry state indeed when a wizard's credit cards end up in a hobbit's hungry hands," Gandalf declared, stepping dramatically out of the bathroom.  
  
"Mr. Gandalf sure mus' be powerful t'look so intimidatin' in a bathrobe," Sam whispered to Frodo, obviously impressed.  
  
"You ought to see him in his swimsuit, Sam!" Frodo whispered back. Sam blushed furiously and suddenly became very interested in examining the moose head mounted over the fireplace.  
  
"Oh, let the little ones have their coffee, Gandalf," a voice called from inside the bathroom. "They deserve a break now and then."  
  
"Who'd be takin' a bath wi' Gandalf?" Merry wondered aloud. "If Boromir's out here, then that means..."  
  
"Aragorn?!" Boromir shouted, standing up. He quickly handed the double-cream swiss-chocolate cappuccino to Pip and advanced on Gandalf, eyes wide. "You've been taking a bath with Aragorn?"  
  
"It's not what you think, Man of Gondor!" Gandalf said quickly, backing into the bathroom.  
  
"Oh, we'll see about that!" Gandalf jumped backwards, but Boromir charged by him before the wizard could get the door locked. The door slammed. There were a few loud grunts, some ominous thumps and bumps, and then eerie quiet again.  
  
"Go get'm, Boromir!" Pip called.  
  
Merry nodded. "Serves'm right, tha' pervy old wizard." He glanced at the TV. It'd been muted and set on the Weather Channel. "Looks like th' snow's not goin' t'be stoppin' any time soon."  
  
Pip sipped at the double-cream swiss-chocolate cappuccino and smiled. "'S a'right," he said brightly. "This place isn' all tha' bad -- an' too, I've still got Gandalf's credit card."  
  
Merry smiled slowly, the wheels suddenly starting to turn as he watched Pip lick whipped-cream off his fingers. Whipped-cream... A moment later, he jumped up and grabbed Sam by the arm.  
  
"C'mon, Sam," Merry said to the surprised gardener as he ushered him though the door to the suite's second bedroom. "This time we're lockin' th' door."  
  
Pip sighed and looked over at Frodo. "Rummy?" he asked.  
  
"Sure," Frodo said, shuffling the cards.  
  
(end) 


End file.
